


Inheritance

by bexacaust



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23726668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: I’m tryna make you proudDoing everything you did-I hope you’re up there with God sayin’That’s my kid.
Kudos: 13





	Inheritance

“They tell me I’m the next you.”

First Aid leaned back, looking up at the glimmering hololight sculpture of Ratchet; standing at ease with thumbs hooked into hip plating.

“I’m nothing like you- and it almost hurts to admit that.”

“I’m nothing like you, I’m quiet and tired. I’m sarcastic and bitter and I mutter under my breath and I’m passive aggressive and I… I don’t fight like you used to.”

First Aid’s visor clicked as he removed it, tucked it within his subspace; his facemask slid away and lipplates that hid and whispered more than swore trembled as his optics looked up at Ratchet’s placeholder in something like confusion.

“I’m nothing like you.”

His optics welled up and he swallowed hard.

“I-I worked so damn long just to hear you say you’re proud of me- that I did well, that it was all worth it… And then you DIED. You left, like Pharma, like everyone… Like Ambulon.”

A soft hiccup.

“Is Ambulon there? Where you are? Is he alright, does he forgive me for not being able to… to save…”

First Aid’s knees felt like they’d give as his hands now curled into fists.

“Wh-Why can’t I save everyone, WHY COULD YOU SAVE EVERY SOUL YOU TOUCHED AND ALL I GET IS TO WATCH THEM FADE AWAY?!”

He dropped, knees kicking up dust as they hit the ground and he leaned forward; hands shaking as they splayed servos out against the ground to hold him up.

“I-I’m nothing like you; I’m not lucky like you, I’m not LOVED like you, I’ll never be remembered or hailed or looked up to or…or…”

His dentae gritted together to hold back his wailing, “O-Or loved, like you.”

“No one will ever see me as First Aid- I’m nothing like you… I’m just the vessel they pour their expectations of you into.”

First Aid sat back, on his heels and toes and looked back up to the immobile face of Ratchet’s gravemarker. He wiped away his tears on his arm, coughing past the thickness in his intake as he stared… lonely and worn and lost to time and memory.

“I just… I just wanted someone to tell me it was going to be alright. That I’d make it through and make it on my own… I’m nothing like you, and I never wanted to be.”

He shakily gets to his feet, and places a small glowing offering on the grave.

“And I hope that makes you proud, Ratchet. I’m not like you, and I never will be.”


End file.
